The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1887-05-05
BENSON'S CONCLUSION.
BY ANGELO CRlPPEN- DAVIS,

BY ANGELIC CRlPPEN-DAv1s.
From the New York Voice.
James Erastus Benson, was q dis
ciple of culture. 1t was his theory
that the highest order of emotion and
affection. was only to be found asso-
ciated with cultivation. He believed
tho superior forms ofheroism, self-sac-
rlhce and love, were impossible with
the crude, unIettered Masses" as he
expressed it. They might indeed ex-
'st, but the manifestations of them
would be inferior in kind and minor
in degree.
Naturally, he had been born in Bos.
ton. Providence would have commit
ted great error to have located him
anywhere else. Indeed, those who
knew MIR. Benson best believed he
would have declined opening his ewes
IN another spot. He was slightly pes
elm'stlc' and decidedly dyspeptic.
(Ihere is popular belief that the lat
ter includes the formerly And one
day his physician tod him there was
also some bronchial affection that the
climate OF his native New England az
gravated, and strongly advised him
to 90 south for the winter.
1t was late January when he found
himself in a hotel in southern Georri;,,
This hotel was huge, rambling affair
built OF frame with verandas running
round about it. The house was chiefly
filled with women and children. Il
was kind OF sanitarium built in the
midst OF pine woods,
Whose balsamic perfumes carry healing
on their wings"
He walked out on the veranda. It
was February md an early spring.
Some one had come in from the woods
with branches ofyellow iessamine now
in bloom. 4 child held some branches
IN its hand. He leaned over and in
hailed the spicy fragrance OF the bios
SONS. The child ran away silly. He
looked after her half-inclined to call
her back. He thought he would like
to have her talk to him, yet he did
not know what to say. He had never
known any children. While he WAS
standing there stout, red faced man
came up to him in a way that Mr..
Benson would have considered odi.us.
~ familiar in Boston: here he rather
liked it.
"Good-mOrning, good. morning SIR"
SAID the stranger. "1sn't your name
Benson?"
He admitted that. it was in as cor
dial q way as his natural stiffness
would permit
well, my name is Hatch, Henry
Hatch, formerly OF Amherst, Mass.
L came from there over forty years
ago, when was boy. used to
know some folks OF you" name up
there"
Then he sat socially down on the
upper step leading to the veranda and
began a conversation, in which Mr..
Benson. to his. surprise, found himself
joining with great ease.
The volnble Hatch soon proved, to
his own satisfaction at least, that the
Benson family and his own were old
acquaintance.
At the end of half an hour Benson
found himself pledged to 20 the next
day with his new acquaintance on q
little trip up the Ocmulgee river, "to
see the aborigines," as Hatch put it.
The following afternoon, with an
alacrlty at which he could not bat
feel half ashamed, Mr. Benson equip
ped himself for the Journey He even
waited his companions coming with
an impatience that sat strangely on
one so studiously placid.
When Hatch arrived, he surveyed the
various articles OF luggage with an in
dulGent smile.
IL don't see what you want to tote
p that umbrella for" he remarked, at
the same time indicating the article
in question with outstretched finger
81 never travel without my umbre!.
Ia, replied Benson somewhat stitl1y
"All right, suit yourself" said
Hatch, with the manner OF one who
kindly consents to forgive little lido
syncrasies on the part of his friends.
They were to travelb by rail TO-,
and then take the boat up the river
The first part of the journey occupied
but few hours. It was nearly sun
set when they reached the little sta
ton. 1t was like the general run Of
country stations in the south-a long
wooden building with a group OF loaf
ers Oh the platform, the track, with it's
glistening steel rails. running between
the stretch OF inevitable pine trees.
To Mr.. Benson's utter consterra-
ton, he found they would be obliged
to walk a trestle over the river, the
boat being moored to the opposite
bank. Mr.. Hatch kindly relieved him
of some OF his luggage, allowing him to
retain his umbrella.
The Bostonian's pockets were stuff
ed with various small articles that
could not be crowded into the valise,
though he had considered them neces-
sary to his comfort. Mr.. Hatch said
he was reminded of pictures of the
donkeys in Italy, travelling with load
ed panniers, but Mr.. Benson did not
seem pleased when his attention was
called to the resemblance.
Before starting to cross the testle, he
endeavored to induct the umbrella in
to an already overhowing shawl strap.
The umbrella refused to be coerced.
He fought with it valiantly, but to no
purpose; it was 4 Scotch gingham UNI
brellt, with the frmness OF will "braw
scotchmen" are suppos ed to possess.
1t fairly bristled with offensive
points. 1t struck him in the eye; it
poked and prodded him till the drops
of agony beaded his brow. He al
most made an inflammatory remark
las he gave up the struggle, and carried
be triumphant umbrella in his hand.
What q walk he had over that mar.
" plank that was laid across the
estle work with water blinking wick.
ally at him from below, and the UNI
brella doing its best to trip him up!
Finally he shut his eyes and walked
by faith.
Once over, they went down the in.
ctined plane that led to the steamer.
There it lay. q new, brightly painted
little boat. The cant ain was q hin